All About Us
by TornEmotions
Summary: One cold night in London, Nancy thinks about her and Bill and asks a question. oneshot. songfic.  Under miscellaneous b/c Oliver Twist wasn't in category for books.


All About Us

**Hana**: Here we go. Another songfic … Although I have a full on Oliver Twist fic I'm working on, this is a Bill x Nancy oneshot. I LOVE this pairing ! Very nervous though, as this is my first time trying to write angst *sweatdrop* The fic is set before the story of Oliver Twist. My description of Nancy is taken from the 2005 movie version by Roman Polanski. Hope you like it ….

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Oliver Twist, TATU or _All About Us_. The title and lyrics are from _All About Us_ by TATU. What else? It's 2:30 am, ok? *sob* give me a BREAK!

The night was bleak and cold. Tendrils of fog slid through the air, obscuring the light of the streetlamps and life itself. In one flat, a light was lit. Sitting up in bed was a slender, curvy girl with curly red hair and vivacious green eyes. Tonight, her eyes were reflective and troubled. She glanced at the man sleeping beside her, his worn, stubbled face pressed into the threadbare pillow.

Bill.

'_They_

_Say_

_They Don't_

_Trust_

_You_

_Me_

_We_

_Ask_

_So We'll_

_Fall_

_If We_

_Must'_

The girl, Nancy, sighed. Bill had come back from one of his 'jobs' earlier and was now sleeping. Bill Sikes was a thief and a not a man many would have liked to know. He was firm, mean, uncouth,. He was firm, mean, uncouth,. He was firm, mean, uncouth,. He was firm, mean, uncouth – violent. Nancy fingered her shoulder which retained a bruise from one of his more recent beatings.

She knew Fagin, Bet, and her other acquaintances wondered why she stayed with Bill. Nancy was a kind, good-hearted person who loved life.

Nancy was also a prostitute, sleeping with anyone willing to pay – all to earn a living. She hated it, yet it never crossed her mind to try and find a better life. She was what she was and Bill was what he was. They would both fall as low as possible if they must – as long as they were together.

'_If_

_They_

_Hurt_

_You_

_They_

_Hurt_

_Me_

_Too_

_So_

_We'll_

_Rise Up_

_Won't Stop'_

Nancy reached down gently and stroked Bill's cheek. She remembered when he'd been injured once on a job – knife wound. She had been so worried, diligently tending to him. She'd felt Bill's every ache and pain as if it were her own and bore his grumbling understandingly.

Bill recovered, though. And continued 'working.' Nancy knew she would always be there for him, no matter what the cost.

'_They don't know_

_They can't see_

_Who we are_

_Fear is the enemy_

_Hold on tight_

_Hold on to me_

_Cause tonight'_

What did everyone else know? They had no right to judge Bill and Nancy, no right to try and tell them what the _**hell**_ to do. Whether or not Bill loved her, Nancy would **always** love Bill.

Nancy didn't know it, but Bill did love her. He loved her so much, he couldn't stand it. She deserved so much better than he could give her and she never tried to take it. That was why he would hit her. Out of frustration – why didn't she ask for better? – and out of his own shame and guilt, he would hurt her, cause her pain. Leaving him feeling all the worse. He knew she loved him and only wanted to be there for him, to be with him. He should confide his feelings to her. And yet ….. he was afraid. Scared to put himself forward, _terrified_ of becoming vulnerable, open to pain. Thus, he kept his distance emotionally – or tried to. And failed utterly. Bill loved Nancy and Nancy loved Bill, yet fear kept them apart.

Nancy started as she heard a voice, thick with sleep.

"Nancy – lay down, will ya?"

Nancy obliged and met Bill's eyes. Suddenly, she had to ask.

"Bill – do you love me? Do you?"

Pain showed. Stark, naked pain flashed through Bill's eyes for a second and he broke off eye contact. Exhaling slowly, he responded. (dancing around the real question and also subconsciously answering it)

"What do you think? I'm 'ere, aren't I? 'ere," and his arms enfolded her, causing her to be nestled next to him, her cheek nuzzling his chest, their warmth mingling, "see? You know I care for you."

They both knew. It wasn't about riches or wealth or poverty or Fagin or their 'work' or anything – just them. They were all the other had and all they needed. It was all about them.

'_It's all about Us.'_


End file.
